


Crossing Paths

by KoolJack1



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Prague/Prag (2006)
Genre: AU, Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Crossover, Depression, Drug Abuse, Emotional Baggage, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:17:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4326522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolJack1/pseuds/KoolJack1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is retired from Homicide because he can't handle the death that surrounds him, but instead of becoming a profiler, he retreats to fixing boat motors with seven dogs.</p><p>Then he meets a Danish man with heavy baggage.</p><p>Hannibal crossover with Mads Mikkelsen's movie, Prague/Prag.</p><p>I'm not even sure if anyone will be interested in this, but I would love to continue if anyone is!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't believe there have been any stories written about Christoffer, Mads' character in my favorite movie of his, Prague. The movie is certainly not given enough credit, but Mads does a beautiful job in it. You don't have to have seen the movie to read this, but there will be spoilers (don't worry about them though, because even if you know what happens, the movie is beautiful). I'm not even sure if anyone will be interested in this, but if someone is I will continue it!

It’s a crisp night, but still warm enough that the chill does not prevent a walk down the beach. The dogs always love it; free to run off the leash under the cover of night while Will strolls along behind them. Florida was at it’s best during this time of year; most of the summer visitors had returned to their everyday lives and the overbearing weather was finally starting to break. Ideal time for those who lived there year round to enjoy the comfort that the area had to offer without the heat and the tourists.

He notices a man sitting on the edge of the lifeguard post, the glint of his lit cigarette bright in the other wise darkness. Will whistles to call the dogs back, frowning in disappointment when they ignore him and approach the stranger. He moves to a run when Winston jumps up on the shadow, hurrying to pull the dog off. “I’m so sorry, they’re usually much better behaved.”

The other man takes another drag of his smoke and frowns slightly at the dogs, “That’s why I don’t like animals. You think you have them trained until one day they go ahead and do whatever they want anyway,” the man exhales his smoke away from Will, then finally looks up at him from under his hair. His accent is heavy- clearly something European. “But that’s alright, don’t worry.”

Will stares at him a moment longer, his face isn’t tanned as it would be if he had been around the area long. “Are you visiting here?”

The man looks away and drops his smoke into the sand, then suddenly seems to remember something and bends to retrieve it. “I suppose, how did you know?”

“You’re not tan, and your accent… well it gives you away,” Will frowns slightly, unsure why he would even have the desire to attempt to strike up a conversation with this man that is obviously uninterested in speaking with him.

“Yes, I’m visiting,” he says finally, pressing his hands into his pockets, “From Denmark.”

“Long way from home,” Will adds, looking for an opening to awkwardly walk away.

“It’s not home anymore, I’m not sure where I want to stay right now,” he says matter of fact, then his eyebrows draw together and he falls silent.

Will swallows thickly, “I’m Will.”

“Christoffer,” the man offers after a pause. Neither of them offer their hand for the other one to shake.

“Where have you been staying?”

“Brighten Hotel for two nights. I just got here Monday,” then he looks up at Will, “I was thinking of investing in a boat, do you know any for sale?”

“I’m a boat mechanic at a small marina in town, they always have boats for sale,” he looks at the man’s wrinkled suit and dress shoes covered in sand, “Are you familiar with boats?”

The man smiles slightly, “No, not at all.”

Will smiles too, “Interesting choice then. I can help you make a good choice if you want, I’ll even teach you how to launch it.”

Christoffer looks up at him, then at his dogs as they run in and out of the waves, “Thank you.”

Will hesitates at the despair that seeps into the man’s voice, “Tomorrow?”

“Okay,” is the simple response, and then they fall into silence.

“Are you alright?” Will asks after a moment, noticing now the way the man trembles.

“Yes, I’m okay.” It’s clearly a lie; the more Will looks at the other man, the more he realizes how not okay he really is. His hair is messy and unwashed, leaving it falling into his red rimmed eyes that are sagged down by dark circles from sleepless nights. His limbs seem too heavy for the man to lift, his emotional state weighing him down physically.

There is nothing Will can say about it, it’s not his place. “I’ll be at the yard at nine in the morning tomorrow, on Broadway and Elm street just two blocks down. If you’re still interested in a boat, come by and I’ll help you.” He wants to say something else, pry further into why exactly this man is here, but it’s clear that Christoffer is not accustomed to people digging deeper into his wellbeing.

“I will try to stop by,” he says distantly, offering Will a small smile before he pushes off the stand, “Thank you for the conversation.”

“Goodnight,” he responds, watching the other man retreat off the beach and behind a building.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy people were interested in this even though it's a random crossover!! :D

Will thought about Christoffer the whole night, and most of his morning at work. Each time someone would arrive, he found himself hoping it would be the strange man from the beach. There was no reason really, except an odd worry that the other man was alright.

When Christoffer had not shown, the curiosity had manifested into genuine concern. The concern found him at the front desk of the Brighten hotel after leaving the marina for the day. “I’m looking for someone; tall, light brown hair, his name is Christoffer,” he explains, wracking his brain for an excuse should the woman decide not to disclose the information, “He said he was staying here, he’s visiting from out of town and I was supposed to show him around. Forgot his room number though, and now he’s not answering his phone.”

The woman looks him up and down; she looks old enough to know that it’s probably against hotel policy to share a room number, but young enough to not care enough to cause a scene. She types for a moment and stares at the screen, “We have one Christoffer here, with two f’s, he’s in room 364.”

“Thank you,” he offers, but she’s already looking back down at her cellphone. He chooses to wait for the elevator as opposed to taking the stairs to give himself time to plan what he will say to this man when he sees him again. He still has nothing to say when he’s standing outside the room, but he knocks anyway. He’s greeted with silence; no one makes a noise in the room or in the hall. He knocks again, once more, harder than the first time. He waits as long as he thinks is acceptable, and then an additional few seconds before he turns to leave. The knob on the inside clicks and he turns back to see the door crack open.

Christoffer squints through a small opening, clad in only low hanging slacks. The room reeks of alcohol, Will can smell it from where he stands. If it’s possible, Christoffer looks worse for the wear than he did less than twenty-four hours ago. “Will?” He croaks, his accent heavier and slurred slightly.

“Yeah, hi,” Will awkwardly steps back in front of the door, slightly relieved when the man opens it a little wider, “You didn’t come by today,” he says, as if that explains why he’s standing outside the man’s hotel room.

Christoffer blinks at him, his eyebrows pulling together, “What time is it?”

“After five in the afternoon,” Will says gently, frowning when the man winces. He must have slept the entire day, or done whatever he does without keeping track of how long it has been.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment before Christoffer speaks, “Do you want to come inside?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead opens the door wider before turning and retreating into the dark room. The shades are still drawn, concealing the room in darkness. Will resists his compulsion to open them, knowing it will blind the other man. The room is littered with stubs of smokes and empty liquor bottles from the hotel’s minibar; Christoffer hastily tries to shove the trash into the small garbage from under the desk. “Why did you come here?”

“Truthfully, I wondered if you were alright,” he says honestly, watching the man stumble around the room. It’s obvious he’d been drinking, and drinking excessively.

“I am,” he says, then he straightens up, “I will look at the boats tomorrow if that’s alright?”

Will knows Christoffer wants him to agree and leave now, but his desire to stay is far too strong. “Have you eaten anything? I was going to grab dinner,” the words spill from his mouth before he can think better of them, and he can’t bring himself to look at the other man.

“Okay,” is all he says after a pause, “I just need to put on a shirt.” Will can’t deny he is surprised by the acceptance, but pleased that Christoffer would agree. Will didn’t need an empathy disorder to understand that this man was deeply depressed, though the reason was unclear. Will could relate to depression, and sitting alone drinking the day away in a dark room was not how anyone should be left.

Christoffer pulls a shirt on, one that is wrinkled from being thrown on the floor, and stuffs his feet into his sneakers and his pack of smokes into his pocket before he follows Will to the door of the hotel room. In the florescent light of the hallway, Christoffer looks like a ghost. His pale skin leaves the bags under his eyes looking darker and makes his red and puffy eyes all the more noticeable.

He sways slightly while they wait for the elevator, both from drinking and exhaustion. Will frowns, but doesn’t mention it. Instead, he tries to prompt the other man to talk, “What kind of food were you in the mood for?”

Christoffer wrinkles his nose, “You can pick,” he says dismissively. They remain in silence all the way out to the sidewalk. The initial light from the outside blinds Christoffer so badly that he grunts quietly, instinctively stepping back into the doorway and shielding his eyes. Will can’t help but wonder how long he’d gone without seeing the sun, and he offers the man the sunglasses that were perched on his head. Christoffer smiles gratefully and slips them over his eyes, yet they continue on in silence as Will leads the way to a burger shack near the marina.

Christoffer doesn’t talk much, merely to order his food and ask Will if he wanted a cigaret, which he declined. They sit outside under one of the umbrellas while Christoffer chain smokes and stares at his fingers. “So what brings you here from Denmark?”

Though Christoffer looks up, Will can’t see his eyes behind the glasses, “Looking for a change of pace.” Then he looks down again, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing at his ring finger- right where a wedding band would sit. Will’s old training never did fade, though he tried to forget it, and he intuits that there was, at one time, some type of ring perched on that finger. Recently removed, recently enough to be missed, perhaps still there in a phantom feeling. 

“How long do you plan to stay?”

Christoffer doesn’t look up this time, “I’m not sure.” There food comes then, and Will’s water and the other man’s beer. Christoffer doesn’t acknowledge the food, and drinks hastily at the beer while Will watches with concern.

“You weren’t obligated to come out with me today, you know. If you didn’t want to,” Will says gently, chewing on one of his fries while the other man picks at the food in front of him.

“I did want to come,” is all he says in response, and Will sighs quietly. After a few beats of silence he adds, “I’m just not sure why you invited me.”

Will considers his answer, then decides for the truth, “You seemed like you needed a friend.”

Christoffer physically tenses at his words, then sits back away from the table, “I don’t.”

He chooses not to argue, “Okay. Then I needed a friend.”

“I’m not a very good friend,” Christoffer admits, but he does relax from his tense position, even taking small bites of his food.

“Nor am I,” Will counters, smiling slightly when the other man does.


	3. Chapter 3

Christoffer does come to look at the boats the following day, the sunglasses Will told him to keep shielding his sensitive eyes from the bright Florida sun. He’s wearing the same wrinkled shirt that he wore to dinner the night before, and it’s clear by the state of his hair that he hadn’t showered.

Will had walked him back to his hotel the night before, after Christoffer had finished five more beers and not even half of his food. The taller man had hesitated at the door to the hotel and turned to offer Will a small smile, “Thank you for inviting me.” Then he had went inside. Their meal had been mostly quiet, aside from small talk about the weather and Will’s dogs. They had expertly avoided any mention of anything deeper than that, but Will was content to just have the man talking.

Now, Will shows the man the boats they have for sale, “What price range were you looking for?” Christoffer stares at the smaller boats and frowns.

“I’m not sure, I just wanted to be able to spend a day on the water,” then he looks at Will, “Can I rent one?”

Will realizes he had yet to see Christoffer’s eyes clearly, even though now he’s looking at them behind the dark glasses, “I have a boat, I could take you out if you want. Do you fish?”

Christoffer is quiet for a moment, looking away from Will to admire the boats again, “I’ve never fished. Never been on a boat either.”

“Fishing can be relaxing, being on the water is also a nice feeling. I can take you out today if you’re interested?” 

Christoffer looks at him again and smiles slightly, “Yes, I’m interested.”

That was how they found themselves standing at the marina while Will prepared the boat. Christoffer had changed into a t-shirt and shorts, the sunglasses still over his eyes. He smelled like alcohol worse than when he came to the boatyard that morning, but Will ignored it.

The other man seemed uneasy as Will guided the boat through the canal, his fingers anxiously gripping at the railing. “Are you afraid of the water or the boat?” Will asks gently.

“I’m not sure,” he admits, “I have a lot of anxiety,” he adds quietly.

“I know the feeling,” then Will slows the boat to a stop just at the mouth of the canal and drops down the anchor off the side, “We won’t go out where there is waves, we can just sit.”

“Can I smoke?” Christoffer asks, finally letting go of the railing to take his pack out. His hands shake slightly, and though Will would prefer he didn’t smoke on the boat, it’s clear it will ease his nerves.

“Sure.” The man lights up instantly after that, leaning respectfully over the side to avoid ash landing on the seats or smoke getting trapped in the cabin.

“In Denmark, there are lots of boats. More than even here,” he says, and Will knows he has to tred carefully to stop the man from closing up again.

“And you didn’t go on one?”

Christoffer smiles, “No. My wife used…” he stops and looks away, “My ex-wife used to say that I was afraid of having fun.” There’s a distinct fondness in his voice at the memory, and Will offers a small smile too.

“Well, here you are now, having fun.”

“Are you married?” Christoffer asks, keeping his eyes on the smoldering ashes of his smoke.

“No, I moved here after some bad experiences on the job to get away from it. Before that, I was married to my work.”

“Were you always a boat mechanic?” Another boat leaves the canal and a few feet away, and the wake rocks the boat and Christoffer grips at the side again until the wake levels out again.

“No, I was in homicide, but after awhile the cases started to take their toll. Had to retire early, and I’ve always loved boats. So here I am.” He only shares so much in hopes that it will encourage Christoffer to open up too.

It does, slightly. “I worked for a printing company, when my father died I inherited his house. Gave it to an old friend of his, who sold it and gave me the money. I used it to come here, left most of my savings with my ex-wife and son.”

“How old is your son?”

Christoffer smiles slightly then, clearly enamored with even the thought of the boy he left back home, “Fifteen, I call him every day. I’m afraid he won’t feel like he knows me,” then the smile is gone, “Which is probably for the best.”

“I think he’s lucky to have a father who even thinks about something like that. My dad and I were together a lot, but he never connected with me. I think he was disappointed that I wasn’t like the other boys; everything I did just left him shaking his head,” Will offers back, staring down at his own hands now. It’s hard for him to wrap his mind around why he would invite a stranger onto his boat, why he would take any interest in this man at all, and why he would feel compelled to tell him anything at all.

“My father left me when I was young, always thought it was because of something I did. I found out after he died that he was gay, and ashamed of it. That’s why he wasted so many years…” the other man trails off, and Will looks up to see him staring out over the water, “It didn’t have to be that way, but it was a relief to finally know it wasn’t me. That’s why I have to go back home eventually, so that Thomas never thinks it’s him.”

They ease into a more comfortable conversation from there; Christoffer is clearly more comfortable in Will’s company. He stops clinging to the side of the boat, and instead stands up to explore the view from different angles. Will only takes the boat to shore when the man regresses to holding onto the side as a ferry leaving port rocks the boat dramatically. The fear is genuine, though Will isn’t sure of what. On land, he hoses the boat down while Christoffer buys them both a beer from the street vendor. 

He cleans the boat and takes a swig of the beer, while Christoffer goes to buy himself his second. Saddened by the reality that his man has developed a drinking problem, Will swallows thickly. “Let’s get something to eat?”

Christoffer agrees, and they wind up at a small joint outside the Brighten hotel. Will orders ribs and Christoffer picks at a tuna sandwich, far more interested in his rum and coke. “You should eat,” Will murmurs, watching the way the man only absentmindedly moves the food around the basket.

“I haven’t been able to eat much, lately,” Christoffer admits and it’s clear that the honesty was difficult for him. Will observes the man quietly for a moment, only noticing then the way he looks around at the people surrounding them. He’s tense again, and that’s when Will realizes the man may be suffering from a dose of social anxiety. Will’s stomach twists with sympathy, and he cleans his hands on the napkin and asks the nearest waitress for two boxes to go.

Christoffer exhales shakily and downs what is left of his drink; Will leaves cash for the check and dumps both of their food into boxes. They don’t speak as they head across the street to the hotel, but Christoffer’s relief is almost tangible. The second the elevator doors close, Christoffer presses Will back against the wall and kisses him.


	4. Chapter 4

He tastes of alcohol, but what Will notices most is the way his lips tremble. He raises his free hand to touch the man’s cheek and realizes his entire body is trembling. Will kisses him back gently, until the elevator stops at the floor and Christoffer steps away from him.

At the door to the hotel room, he finally looks up at Will behind his sunglasses, “I’m sorry.” Will doesn’t respond, instead he leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips again. Christoffer is still for a few seconds before he turns to fumble with his keycard, “Come in?”

Will does, even though he knows he shouldn’t, and Christoffer turns to press him back against the closed door. The bag with their food slips to the carpet and both of Will’s hands grab the man’s face to turn it and kiss him more solidly. Christoffer’s hands remain planted on the door, holding a few inches of space between them until Will pulls him flush against each other.

The quiet groan from the other man’s throat sets a heat off in Will’s belly, and he leans forward to flip them around and pin Christoffer to the door instead. The sunglasses slip off the man’s nose and land on the carpet, “shit,” he rumbles against Will’s mouth and breaks away to reach for them.

“Leave them,” Will insists, holding Christoffer still. The other man blinks and keeps his eyes down on the lost glasses. He can’t make eye contact with Will, a feeling Will knows all too well. Instead of forcing the issue, he takes the opportunity to admire the features of Christoffer’s face. His thumbs trace the sharp edges of his cheek bones and down to his lips that part on a breath under the pad of his thumb. “It’s okay,” Will offers once, and for a split second, Christoffer manages to look at him.

His eyes are dark brown and impossibly sad before he lurches forward to capture Will’s mouth in a heated kiss. The type that builds in momentum, which eventually drags Christoffer off the wall and has him pushing Will back onto the bed. The taller man is breathing heavily, his eyes impossibly dark as he sways before Will. It’s clear that the alcohol is affecting his motor skills, slowing down his movements and leaving him dazed.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Will asks suddenly, breaking the moment that they were just standing there staring at each other.

Christoffer does, and he runs a hand through his hair, “My wife was fucking another guy but it was my fault,” he swallows once, his left hand reaching for the dresser where he’s left unopened shot bottles. He continues after he downs one of vodka, “I hadn’t been cheating on her, but she said I wasn’t emotionally available to her. I guess I didn’t know how to be,” he reaches again for a second one of the mini bottles, and this time Will reaches out to stop him.

“Don’t keep drinking,” is all he says, and he brings Christoffer’s hand back and lets it rest against his thigh. His hand shakes against the fabric of Will’s jeans, and his chest tightens as if it’s he himself that is about to fall apart.

Christoffer doesn’t say anything else, and instead turns to kiss Will again. The hand on his thigh travels up to the top of Will’s jeans to work at the button while his mouth seductively nips at Will’s lips. “I haven’t fucked anyone other than her in fifteen years.” The honesty and the boldness is a result of too much alcohol and repressed depression, and Will takes his hand to stop him from working it into his pants.

“I think you should try to sleep,” Will says when Christoffer looks up at him, “I know this may be what you think you want right now but I don’t want to have sex with you when you’re this drunk.”

“I have more, you can drink too.”

Will shakes his head and settles his arm around Christoffer’s back, “Could I sleep here? Just sleep.”

The other man is silent for a few moments, “I need to smoke before I lay down, or I can’t sleep. I have anxiety attacks at night.”

Will takes the ambiguous answer as a yes and stands up from the bed to remove his shoes. Christoffer digs a joint from the dresser next to the bed and goes to stand by the window. It’s dark now, nearly ten at night, and the sun doesn’t cause a problem for the other man’s eyes.

Neither of them say anything while the man smokes, the silence holds until he shuts the window and turns to face Will again. “Sometimes I have nightmares too. My wife had learned to put up with it over the years, but I’m not always the best bed partner,” Christoffer warns as he strips from his shirt.

“My nightmares used to be so bad that I didn’t even know what was real, it took years to get them under control,” Will takes the opportunity to strip from his own shirt and pants, leaving them both in their boxers. Christoffer is skinny to the point where his ribs can be counted visually. His body is built that it was once clearly toned and well muscled, and had now been reduced to the form of a person that does not eat enough.

Will knows he should leave, go home to his dogs, take a shower, forget all about this; but the way that Christoffer looks at him like he’s adrift on the ocean keeps Will in place. He comes closer slowly, leaning down to kiss Will again. He tastes of weed and alcohol now; the taste unfamiliar and interesting. Will feels the brush of Christoffer’s erection through his underwear, and pulls back slightly to look at the other man’s face, “Not tonight.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” is all the other man offers before he looks away and climbs under the covers. Will goes to the other side and slides in behind him. There is no hesitation from Will before he comes up behind the other man and wraps his arms around him from behind. Christoffer moves back to press his back to Will’s chest, both of them unused to having someone cuddled so close to them. 

They don’t speak again, and Will didn’t expect much to be said since Christoffer is apparently a man of very few words; but his body language is much more important. Minutes tick by before Christoffer relaxes back against him, and it’s even longer than that until Will shuts his eyes.

Christoffer does have a nightmare, hours later. Will blinks his eyes clear to see the digital clock displaying that it’s just after two in the morning. Christoffer shudders against Will, his breath hitching in his chest with each inhale. He’s painfully quiet, and Will doesn’t break the silence as he tries to sooth the man back to a more restful sleep. Will rests his forehead against the back of Christoffer’s neck and strokes up and down his chest. Christoffer’s heart beats quickly in his chest, hard enough that Will can feel it vibrating through him.

The transition between nightmare and sleep is slow but graceful. Christoffer never breaks the surface of being awake, even though his eyelids flutter briefly before he sinks back into sleep with a sigh. Instinctively, he nuzzles closer to Will before resting again, this time free from his bad dreams. Will is too tired to stay awake beyond that, once he’s content that Christoffer is once again at peace, and then he shuts his eyes to find his own sleep once again.


	5. Chapter 5

The sunlight never enters the room from behind the curtains, so Will manages to sleep relatively late. When he does open his eyes, he finds himself alone in the room. He lays there for a few minutes, contemplating if he should leave or wait for Christoffer to return; his thoughts interrupted but the click of the lock sliding open. Christoffer quietly enters the room, setting down a bag and two cups on the counter, then he smiles when he turns to see Will is awake.

Christoffer is dressed in his wrinkled clothes from yesterday, the dark sunglasses back in place over his eyes; though his hair is soft and in his eyes from being freshly washed. Will is surprised when Christoffer doesn’t keep them on this time, slipping them from his eyes and placing them on the dresser. The taller man seems more steady on his feet this time, clearly sobered up from the night of sleep and skipping his morning drinks.

“I brought you breakfast; a sandwich,” Christoffer mumbles, shyly turning to unpack the food, “Breakfast sandwich, with coffee. Home fries too.” The discomfort is clear, but Will would take an awkward but sober Christoffer over the man he had gotten to know over the past few days. The taller man turns with the food to present it to Will in bed, offering a small smile again without ever really meeting Will’s eyes.

The younger man sits up to place the food on his lap, “Thank you.” Christoffer is silent after that, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Will with his own food.

“Thank you for not leaving when I woke you up,” Christoffer says eventually, staring down at the egg sandwich to avoid facing Will at all.

“I asked if I could sleep here, I wouldn’t have left because you had a nightmare.”

Christoffer smiles to himself slightly, “My wife would move to the couch some nights, in the last few months.” As if the very memory of it sickens him, Christoffer relinquishes his food back to the wrapper and moves it to the end table.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Will offers lamely, “I know you believe it’s because you weren’t emotionally available, and I don’t know your ex-wife; but I think you’re suffering from other problems. That isn’t your fault or hers.”

Christoffer doesn’t say anything for a few minutes after that, instead he sips his coffee and leans back against the headboard. When he finally does speak, it’s nearly a whisper, “Is it wrong that after everything, I still feel guilty for hurting her? My distance hurt her.”

“Of course not, you didn’t mean to hurt her. It doesn’t mean that your love for her is any less real,” then Christoffer is leaning to the side to rest his head against Will’s shoulder, leaving Will with the opportunity to push his food to the side and pull the other man closer.

The kisses fall lightly against Will’s neck, soft hair brushing against his shoulder. “I’m sorry I keep talking about her, you’re just the first person that’s given me the chance to,” Will feels the other man swallow roughly against his shoulder, “And I don’t know if you meant for… whatever this was to be physical in anyway, I guess I didn’t really ask.”

Will chuckles, squeezes his hand against Christoffer’s side, “I would have told you instantly if I wasn’t alright with it.” Christoffer’s breath warms his throat, simultaneously raising goosebumps up along the skin of his arms. The pair sit quietly for awhile after that, both considering their lives as they had led them to this moment. Two people who were absolutely not the type to stumble upon complete strangers and wind up in their bed, sharing secret confessions as if they were long lost friends that were meant to be lovers.

When Will resumes taking small bites of his food, Christoffer continues eating his own, flicking a piece of egg off the bed when it drops from between the halves of his role. “My son called me this morning.”

Just the mention of the boy raises Christoffer’s spirit noticeably, “That’s wonderful, what did he say?”

“The usual, he misses me and asked when I would be back. The gardens are opening again soon for the season,” he hesitates before elaborating, “Tivoli Gardens, an amusement park in Denmark. I take him every year for opening weekend. There’s a celebration for the coming of the new summer; fireworks and parades. Another long, dark Danish winter passed, but really it’s just another excuse to celebrate- we always look for one.” 

Will laughs at the sudden gush of enthusiasm from the typically unemotional man, pleased to find that there is still something that Christoffer truly enjoys. “You would regret not being there to take him.”

“I would, I don’t have a choice but to return and make sure we go.”

“When is opening weekend?”

Christoffer sits back up off of Will, shifting to return to leaning back against the headboard, “Just under four weeks, I want to surprise him. My…” He hesitates, starts again, “Maja would want me to come take him, she knows how much it’s come to mean to him… to both of us. He can’t suffer for my feelings, I know how that feels.”

There’s a beautiful conflict evident in Christoffer’s voice- between the hurt husband and the devoted father. Face the very cause of his pain for the sake of his son, or cause his son pain for the sake of avoiding more of his own. The hurt it would leave his son would only bring additional hurt to Christoffer, and the finality in his words only solidifies that the man will not be kept from his son. Their relationship with stand alone regardless of his relationship with the boy’s mother. Will has to admire him, has to acknowledge that there are many fathers that wouldn’t even bother, wouldn’t even want to.

“He’ll be so happy that you did, you both will,” Will encourages, leaning back to rest himself against the headboard too. They both smile at each other slightly, offering and accepting the comfort that comes from having someone so open to listening and understanding. “I have to go care for my dogs, you can take a trip with me to my house if you want, it’s not a far walk. I’m going to go down to a river near my house too and do some fishing, cook them up for dinner. You’re more than welcomed to join.”

Christoffer brightens at the offer, “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you're interested in reading more from this pair! :D


End file.
